


bruises

by rangerhitomi



Series: radical dreamers [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M, Past Lives, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:49:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerhitomi/pseuds/rangerhitomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Merag had read the situation between her brother and the knight a little differently, she might have realized that those weren't sparring bruises on her brother's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bruises

Merag can believe that her brother was bruised during a particularly heated sparring session with Durbe. The collarbone was a bit high for a strike, but accidents happened, and Nasch didn’t seem too injured, so she gave him some ointment to put on it. His thanks are muttered and reluctant. She leaves him with the advice that perhaps he should consider wearing something to cover his entire chest for a few days so no one has to know that he had been bested at sport.

 _He just thrust too hard,_ Nasch mutters under his breath.

Durbe, as far as she can tell, is uninjured but also a bit embarrassed, and she hears him whisper to Nasch as they leave that he apologizes for leaving a mark.

She hopes Durbe won’t take it _too_ easy on Nasch.

* * *

 

Sometimes, Nasch and Durbe disappear for hours at a time, and Merag has no idea where they are. She scours the palace looking for them one afternoon, when Nasch is supposed to be mediating some local ordinances, and comes up empty, so she has to sit in on the procedures in lieu of the religious duties that she would much rather be doing. It’s tedious, and her brother owes her for this.

Later in the day, Nasch and Durbe come up from the stables, and both of their hair is windswept.

 _We went to a neighboring island to examine the crop yields_ is Nasch’s excuse, and it makes sense, because it is much faster to fly on Mach than it is to ferry boats between the islands. She still chides him for forgetting about the meeting, and he promises to go to the next one.

* * *

 

He doesn’t.

If Merag had thought to look in the wine cellar, she would have found her brother and his best friend half-undressed, exhaling hot, wet breaths into each other’s mouths. She would have discovered that there were more bruises on Nasch’s chest than just the occasional one on his collarbones, and that the only reason she’s never seen Durbe with bruises is because he covers them with his scarf, and that they’re _not_ actually bruises from sparring. Had she thought to look in the wine cellar at that moment, she would have found her brother shoved up against a mossy stone wall while Durbe bites at Nasch’s pale skin and rubs their hips together, and she would have heard the wet sucking sounds and whines and sharp exhales—

But she doesn’t, because she is stuck entertaining court for the third time in a month in Nasch’s absence, and she wonders if she can’t just add to the sparring bruises all over her brother’s chest.


End file.
